


Unreasonable Attachment

by amcw177



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcw177/pseuds/amcw177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spell goes sideways, Thor gets turned into a puppy, Coulson has no choice, and Loki gets to fix things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Importance Of Being Precise

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely connected to [The Undercover Boogie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/294801) in which Coulson secretly recruits Loki as a covert operative for S.H.I.E.L.D. and things go wrong a lot. That's pretty much all you need to know to understand this one, I think.
> 
> In my defense, this started out as a small-ish ficlet just for shits and giggles. But people were asking about the time in between and that's why this is now a two-parter. Many thanks to [kentucka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kentucka) for beta-ing and not drowning in the sickly sweet syrup that is this story. Any remaining mistakes are mine and I apologise in advance. Also, a big hand for [sphinxofthenile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sphinxofthenile) who is to blame for encouraging this in general and for the fire-breathing in particular. And because I couldn't help myself: Catch the The Road To El Dorado reference and be my friend forever.
> 
> By the way, this was written long before The Avengers hit the big screen so... look at it this way: In case you are suffering from a severe form of post-movie feels this is your extra big serving of reconciliatory Häagen-Dazs. And a puppy.

“Fix this.”

“I don’t see where the problem is.”

Coulson squints first at the fidgeting Golden Retriever pup in his outstretched arms and then at Loki.

This is breaking protocol on all ends but it is their last resort. Two weeks ago when one of Loki’s spells had rebounded off an ancient artifact everyone had thought a puppy version of Thor was cute.

Several holes in the lab walls and a multitude of missing left shoes later S.H.I.E.L.D. has in its entirety decided that it is time to speed up Thor’s recovery. The fuzzball that Thor currently is may be cuddly but he is still a god and therefore hooking him up to a leash that is merely twined around a table leg is not a good idea.

The door to Stark’s workshop is still a vaguely table-shaped hole.

And since Barton is banned from playing fetch with Thor at all times - human or not - there is only so much HQ can do with a furry edition of their resident thunderer.

Which has prompted Coulson into opening his sadly not-so-secret-anymore communication channel to Loki. As a result, the infamous God of Mischief is now standing in their entrance hall patting Thor on the head but refusing to do anything else. Thor drools a little and yelps excitedly.

“Turn him back.” Coulson says, retaining his cool because he cannot lose it in front of half of S.H.I.E.L.D. The greater part of HQ has huddled together on the gallery above, ready to duck into safety at the first sign of mischievous activity. Coulson can’t even blame them. This is certainly unheard of and he will have to answer a lot of questions later on - not least of all from Thor. If the latter ever finds his speech again.

Loki wipes his hand on a tissue he conjured from god knows where and makes a relatively disgusted face considering he just nuzzled his own brother behind the ears, “I can’t.”

Thor barks, strangely high-pitched for a guy his size.

Coulson sets him down on the floor and Thor immediately waddles over to Loki and unceremoniously flops down on Loki’s right boot. Loki looks as if he is considering kicking Thor.

“Why?” Coulson inquires but it’s resigned. Loki has never given a proper explanation as to why anything does or does not work.

The tissue bursts into a cloud of glittering particles and disappears entirely before the first flakes touch the ground. Then Loki wriggles his foot until Thor falls over with a somewhat indignant whine.

“The stars are not in position.” Loki states as if Coulson is supposed to believe it.

“Stars.” Coulson crosses his arms in front of his chest. Somewhere above them he can hear the first panicky footsteps shuffling away from the scene.

“Yes. Stars.” Loki gestures at the ceiling, “Can’t do it.”

Coulson steps into Loki’s personal space - which causes a considerable amount of hubbub amongst his agents by the sound of it - and ignores Thor’s angry growl. It loses a lot of its vigor when it’s coming from a blond fur ball the size of a melon.

“When _will_ they be in position?”

Loki’s lips twitch but it’s not a smile yet, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe never.”

Thor is now squatting between them and is looking utterly lost.

“You’re a sorcerer.” Coulson scowls, “Make them align.”

Loki gives an offended snort, “This may work in your moving pictures but in reality stars are rather persistent in their position.”

“Are you saying you can’t do it? That’s disappointing.”

It’s a thinly veiled trap and Coulson can tell Loki knows it too. But if there is one thing that will get Loki to comply faster than mentioning Thor it is to question his abilities as a magician. Pride is a fickle thing and a false friend.

Loki’s eyes narrow and the hairs on the back of Coulson’s neck stand on edge from the sudden increase in background magic but the moment passes without incident. The remaining spectators collectively exhale and scramble back onto their feet.

“Fine.” Loki says and pushes Thor over with the tip of his boot. Thor starts gnawing avidly at the leather. He looks ridiculously happy - happier than Coulson has seen him in a while. Maybe they should keep him like this. The hammer has automatically shrunk to squeaky toy size and his powers appear to be unaffected. Except for the size and his sudden preference for walking on all fours the difference isn’t all that big.

But Coulson figures Fury might have objections to pets running with their team. Besides, Thor tends to distract the agents by sitting up and begging for treats.

The memo about pop tarts not being appropriate dog food must have been the most awkward piece of paperwork Coulson has ever filed.

“When?” Coulson demands because having Loki’s consent is only half the work. Getting him to actually _do it_ is much harder.

Loki crouches down and cautiously rubs Thor’s belly which the thunderer seems to enjoy quite a bit. Coulson has lost count of all the levels this is wrong on.

“My, are we demanding today, agent Coulson,” Loki sing-songs and Coulson hopes he is talking to Thor. If not they really need to have a conversation about using baby-speech when addressing a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

“Let’s just say having to take your brother for a walk during missions is getting a bit tedious,” Coulson says. “Unless you want to do it?”

Loki glares up at him while Thor playfully bites his fingers, “I like to think my brother is fully capable of doing his business on his own.”

“Of course, he is. We would just like him not to do it in the middle of the hallways, that’s all. Safety regulations, you understand.”

Loki sighs and glances down at Thor who is rolling around on his back trying to catch Loki’s hand with his paws. When Loki smiles it is oddly fond.

The puppy syndrome - what works in advertising can’t fail in negotiations with a mentally unstable villain. There is a reason why Coulson brought Thor along instead of leaving him with agent Barton.

This, and Barton tends to put a red cape on him and roll him down the corridors on a skateboard.

“Alright.” Loki nods and carefully picks Thor up to cradle him in his arms. Most of the initial dislike seems to be gone. They should employ Thor as their mascot. His presence would work wonders in PR.

“I’ll get him back to you in a couple of days.” Loki announces and scratches Thor under the jaw, causing his puppyfied brother to almost topple off his arms in sheer joy. Coulson can’t decide if this is endearing or disturbing.

“Wait.” Coulson holds Loki back before the sorcerer can magick his way out of HQ. He has learned how to talk to Loki - it’s a bit like arguing with a lawyer. He will find the tiniest loopholes to turn everything into a horrible mess and you will regret ever asking him for anything in the first place. But technically he does exactly what you wanted him to. You just failed to specify the desired outcome.

“Bring him back in one piece, in human form, and at least remotely looking like he does on the trading cards, alright? If anything about him is pink or otherwise strangely coloured I will allow him to pee in all your shoes, do I make myself clear?”

“That’s disgusting, agent Coulson.” Loki sneers and pets Thor’s head as he vanishes in a whirl of golden smoke. He could disappear without all the special effects but Coulson has come to realise that Loki likes a good show just as much as the next human.

Coulson stares at the empty spot before him and straightens his tie. “Alright, everyone back to work. And check your personal belongings. He has a nasty habit of long-distance pick-pocketing.”

\---

Thor comes back three days later in all his Asgardian glory. Only his tongue is blue which is less damage than Coulson had anticipated.

_”You said nothing pink. Have you ever even **seen** his tongue? It is disgustingly pink.”_

Coulson does not make a habit of inspecting any of the Avengers’ oral cavities - he gladly leaves that to their resident dentist.

“I was not aware of that. Perhaps I should have specified which areas were to retain a standard pinkish hue.”

_”Careful, Coulson, or I tell you what other areas I have left blue.”_

Coulson actually stops scribbling notes on Barton’s latest vacation request and quietly sets the cell phone aside. For a moment he considers throwing it out the window but then he would have to requisition a new one and signing his own forms is weird.

So, instead he starts typing up an email to agent Romanova in which he asks her to escort Thor to the sick bay for another check-up. Then he picks up his phone again.

“Blue is really not his colour.” He says diplomatically.

_”Would you rather have him furry and sixteen inches tall again? Any time, agent Coulson. Any time.”_

“Well, since I can clearly see you two were having fun if anything like this should happen again I’ll just leave him with you right away.” The disgruntled silence on the other end of the line tells Coulson that as far as threats go they are on par.

_”You owe me so many shoes, Coulson. There are not enough cows in this petty little realm to make amends for all the shoes this mongrel has ruined.”_

Coulson almost smiles, “I will gladly review your request for a government refund.”

_”Next time I will turn **you** into a dog and see how you like it.”_

“That is certainly within your range of options.” Coulson agrees, tapping his pen on Barton’s request papers. He might even be inclined to give Barton two out of his sixteen requested vacation days. “But if you expect me to continue to stand between you and a witch hunt focusing on your person I will have to disappoint you. I’m afraid SHIELD does not recognise paw prints as legally binding signatures on official forms.”

Loki remains dangerously quiet for a long time.

_”Has anyone ever told you that you are quite possibly the single, most irritating human being on this rock you call home?”_

“Every day. But I suspect it’s agent Barton’s way of saying thank you.”

_”Well, I can tell you, it’s not.”_

“Turn it back,” Coulson insists, “Thor’s tongue. A nice, subtle shade of pink this time.”

There is no reply, just a click that manages to actually sound enraged.

Half an hour later there is a shriek from the infirmary and a very pale nurse wobbles out of the room as Coulson passes by. When he checks in on Thor the man’s tongue is once again a natural shade of pink but judging by the nurse’s reaction the states in between were not pretty.

Coulson makes a mental note to be more concise next time. And possibly get Loki a colour chart.


	2. Three days that Loki will never get back or: Walkin' The Dog

Loki does not, as some of Thor’s friends (namely, the Tin Man) believe, live in a ‘ _creepy medieval castle somewhere in the mountains_ ’. In fact, he finds the mere suggestion that he would be so cliché rather offensive.

He does not live in a cave either; or any other place that is generally dark and uncomfortable, for that matter.

Loki has occupied the entire top floor of the Marriott Hotel Downtown which is easier to accomplish than one might think. It suffices to make key personnel believe that they have received significant funds to cover their fees. It is irrelevant that they haven’t because Loki does not give a rat’s ass about audits and annual balance sheets. Anything beyond a few mind tricks is administrative overkill in Loki’s opinion.

Besides, Loki has discovered that these mortals are incredibly good at creating their own form of professional ignorance.

“Will that be all, Sir?” The concierge asks with a glance towards the pup squatting in the middle of the vast living room of the suite.

One of the interchangeable minions that this hotel employs is dropping off the last bags of dog food - which Loki has been assured is the cheapest brand available unless he wants to go digging through the dumpsters. If Loki is burdened with a puppy version of his brother he is not going to spend any more time or effort on him than is strictly necessary.

Thor doesn’t seem to mind. He is already chewing away at one of the bags, spilling treats all over the carpet.

“Yes.” Loki replies and waves the man off. Apparently, it is customary to give extra payment for such services but Loki has made it abundantly clear that he is not planning on familiarising himself with this tradition. It took them two days to scrub the remains of the trolley boy off the walls.

The concierge gives a curt nod and bows out, silently closing the large door behind him and thus leaving Loki alone with Thor who has taken to rolling around amidst the crumpled plastic bags.

“Oh, stop that.” Loki throws him a disgusted glance and heads for the dressing room, “That’s unsanitary.”

Thor barks and a moment later Loki can already hear the sound of four tipsy little paws pattering after him.

He stops in front of his wardrobe and looks down, frowning. His brother flops down and returns the look, adding a questioning air to it by cocking his furry little head.

“You are going to keep following me around, aren’t you?”

Thor yelps, temporarily forgetting his tongue which proceeds to peek out of the side of his muzzle, and is up on all fours, wagging his tail.

Loki gives a resigned sigh and trades his battle armor for a more casual outfit. A pair of black pants and a shirt will do for now. He was merely wearing his battle attire to scare Coulson’s minions. (He has yet to find out how to genuinely scare Coulson but he’ll get there. Eventually.) They seem to think he is only ready to fight when he is in his Asgardian clothing. No wonder they are so easily surprised.

“You are lucky you got turned into a whelp.” Loki grumbles as one set of clothes vanishes from the wardrobe and seamlessly reappears on his body. He keeps his battle outfit elsewhere - those maids can’t be trusted.

“I wouldn’t lift a single finger if you had been turned into a lizard or a snail.” He walks on into the library, Thor loyally trailing after him, “But I can’t have you running around being _cute_. People will like you even more than they already do.”

Loki is not even sure his brother can understand him but having another living being in his quarters and not talking at least _at it_ feels strange. And when all is said and done it’s not actually all that different from their time in Asgard.

“Well.” He runs his fingers along the spines of books that are for the most part not even meant to exist in this realm, “Let’s see what we can do about your predicament.”

Thor waddles up to him and stands on Loki’s foot with his front paws, looking expectant. Loki has abandoned his boots in favour of nothing but a pair of socks. He twiddles his toes and watches Thor wobble.

He catches himself before his smile can turn into anything more than degrading.

\---

Loki does not sleep a lot. He never has. He has a colourful variety of nightmares that keep him from it but occasionally even he needs to lie down and shut his eyes for a while.

He has been pouring over thick tomes for hours, squinting at ancient scrolls and scripts written in languages these petty mortals would not even comprehend if they tried. Since he has no idea in what way the artifact has altered his spell he will have to find something to reverse the effect on a general level. But sadly there is no such thing as an emergency all-purpose spell.

As a result, Loki has to put something together that can circumnavigate any unwanted alterations and go straight for the core of the problem - which is that his brother is a dog. Surprisingly, not as common an issue in the world of magic as one might think. Finding pieces of spells that tackle this specific problem is giving Loki a headache.

He decides to give it a rest for now and settles into the bed that rivals his old one back in Asgard in comfort. In fact, it might even be a tad better. Not everything in Midgard is shoddy, he’ll admit as much.

It takes about two minutes for the whining to start.

“Shut up!” Loki bellows at the closed door behind which Thor is presumably a fuzzy heap of abandonment issues.

The miserable noise continues, of course. Loki tries to ignore it and buries his face in the pillows. To his dismay, air still seems to be somewhat incremental to his survival and so he stops suffocating himself in favour of sitting up.

“Stop it, you obnoxious scoundrel!” Loki throws a pillow against the door for good measure.

There is a sufficiently shocked yelp but a moment later the whining is back, now with added scratching noises.

Then the door tumbles out of its hinges because Thor is still Thor and even with paws instead of hands he can - and will - punch through walls.

“Seriously?” Loki raises one eyebrow at his brother who alternates between nosing around the destroyed door and blinking up at Loki. He looks vaguely embarrassed.

“Alright, fine.” Loki gives in and beckons Thor over. His brother obliges with an excited bark and scrambles onto the bed.

“No, not _on the bed_ , you irritating flea-carpet!” Loki complains and tries to shove Thor back onto the floor but to no avail. Thor digs his paws into the blanket - and if they’re not careful all the way _through_ \- and stands his ground.

Loki’s shoulders sag but his glare does not lose any of its intensity, “Fine. But you sleep at the foot of the bed. Understood?”

Thor barks, licks his hand and curls up right next to him.

“You stubborn piece of a bastardisation of fauna.” It is all he can to do keep from strangling his brother. That, and gingerly patting his head.

“Coulson will pay for this.” Loki snarls and slides back underneath the covers, carefully arranging himself around Thor.

\---

The next morning Thor is gone and Loki wants to kick himself for the pang of guilt this realisation sends through him.

But it only lasts a moment. Then he decides that if Thor has crashed through another wall and has fallen several dozen floors to his untimely death Loki cannot be blamed. Yet he spends the next ten minutes searching the entire suite for the abhorred whelp.

He doesn’t find Thor but he finds traces of him. Smelly traces. In his shoes.

“Thor!” Loki shouts and lets the remains of his shredded clothes drop to the wardrobe floor. There is a distinctive yap from the vicinity of the kitchen and Loki dashes after it without a second thought.

Several rounds through the suite later Loki has a firm grip on his struggling brother and scrutinizes him, “You abominable creature, you. I swear by everything you hold dear I will stuff you if you do your business in my closet again.”

Thor whines, his legs wiggling helplessly in the air.

“Better yet, stay away from my clothes entirely.” Loki adds as he sets Thor back down. His brother immediately skids away. It looks almost comical when his hind legs find no purchase on the smooth surface of the tiles.

Loki allows himself a moment of triumph and twirls his hands in a motion that conjures up a simple cleaning spell. He had to make use of it quite often back in Asgard because his brother is actually a slob. Thor used to be at least potty trained back then though.

The moment passes too quickly because now Thor is whimpering and possibly thumping his head against the elevator doors.

Loki rolls his eyes and stalks over to where his brother is a picture of misery in the middle of the hallway. Thor gives him a pleading look over his back and then continues to whine at the elevator.

Loki knows what is going on. He lets the evil grin unfold on his lips and strolls over to the control panel and pushes the button that opens the elevator doors.

“There.” He gestures at the empty cabin, “Take yourself for a walk. You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

Thor gazes up at him and doesn’t move an inch.

“Go.” Loki’s grin falters as he finds himself making vague hopping motions, “Move. Disappear. Get going? Leave? There is a tree waiting for you out there, I’m sure.”

Thor sprawls on the floor, all stubby fours spread from him.

“Oh, so you want to do this the hard way, yes?” Loki smiles grimly, “Then I will indulge you.”

He goes and sweeps Thor into his arms and drops him in the elevator cabin, waving goodbye as the doors slide shut.

He wipes his hands and watches the floor numbers light up in reverse. His smirk grows in confidence the lower the number.

When the ground floor label lights up Loki turns around and goes back to his research.

Five minutes later the elevator comes back up and Loki considers cutting the cables that hold it. Thor is sitting on his haunches looking for all it is worth like he is waiting for a treat. There is a leash neatly placed beside him along with a note bearing the hotel’s official insignia.

  


_We kindly ask you to not let your dog into the lobby without a leash and/or supervision._  


  


_Please return enclosed equipment after use._  
 _Kind regards,_  
 _The Marriott Hotel Downtown_  


Loki glares at both the note and Thor, hoping that at least one of them will evaporate. One of them actually does - in an impressive burst of green fire nonetheless - but it’s the wrong one.

“You are doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Loki gnarls through clenched teeth and leans down to slide the collar over Thor’s head. To his surprise Thor doesn’t even flinch.

“Hm.” Loki hums and squints at Thor, “Something’s missing.”

He snaps his fingers and a tag appears out of nowhere, dangling from the collar. It is of the pink kitten variety and reads _’Idiot’_.

It lasts for all of one minute before it magically - and through no fault of Loki’s - transforms into a miniature hammer, boldly sporting the name _’Thor’_.

Thor has always had this effect on Loki’s magic. He makes it go... awry. It’s as if there is this invisible cloak around Thor that will bend Loki’s tricks into something _useful_ and _nice_. It is most aggravating.

“I hate you so much.” Loki states and shuffles into the elevator with Thor. “When we get back I will _bathe you_.”

There is a visible dent in the elevator door when Thor tries to escape.

\---

One would think that walking a dog is a simple matter. Take dog, attach leash, walk - straight-forward, one would assume.

But not with Thor. _Everything_ is interesting to him. He drags Loki around the park to the point where it seems as if Thor is taking Loki for a walk and not the other way around.

And he draws attention - too much so for Loki’s taste - with his acute adorableness. It is sickening and only serves to prolong the endeavour.

“Aaaaw.” The latest in a row of women crouches down and coos over Thor, “What a cutiepie he is. Look at you. You’re a good boy. Yes, such a good boy. Oh my god, you’re so cute, I could eat you up.”

Loki stands next to her and wishes she would.

She inspects the dog tag and chuckles, “Aw, you named him Thor? That is so sweet. Like the superhero.”

Loki takes affront in being held responsible for Odin’s name giving, “I did not name him.”

She frowns and looks vaguely disappointed, “Oh. Your girlfriend did then?”

“No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.” Loki’s patience is wearing thin, “I would assume that his mother and father did.”

She blinks dumbly and straightens up, “I don’t think-”

“I suggest you move along now.” Loki says which she seems to take as a personal insult. Pathetic. If he really wanted to insult her she would _know_.

“Excuse me? You’re awfully rude, Mister.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, “ Loki sneers, “I wasn’t aware that warning someone was considered rude.”

“Warning-”

He points at Thor, “He is about to pee on your shoes.”

Which Thor promptly does. She shrieks and calls both Loki and his brother all sorts of colourful names as she rushes off - probably to find a cleaning service.

Thor flops down and wags his tail, giving Loki a hopeful look. It’s funny how the only truly helpful thing Thor has ever done was when he was a dog and it consisted mainly of following nature’s call.

Well, one does what one can, obviously.

Loki holds Thor’s puppy gaze for a moment and then looks away, smiling subtly, “Well done.”

Then he pushes Thor over with the tip of his shoe and watches him roll around in the grass because that’s just what he does.

\---

Loki does not bathe Thor. Mainly because it will result in massive water damage and Loki has no desire to fix the hotel’s water pipes.

So, he watches Thor traipse over the carpet with his dirty paws. And onto the couch. And everywhere else he is not supposed to go.

But it is useless to try and remove Thor from where he wants to be because all of a sudden he weighs a thousand tons. It’s as if he is channeling Mjölnir’s adjustable weight which, of course, only annoys Loki even further. First, he couldn’t have the hammer and now he can’t even pick up his own brother.

Sometimes Odin really likes to rub it in his face.

After the fifth attempt of fishing Thor out of the fruit bowl on the coffee table Loki gives up and retreats into the library to resume his studies.

Naturally, Thor follows him and Loki pretends not to notice when Thor falls asleep on his feet.

\---

“Alright,” Loki cracks his knuckles and fixes Thor with a firm stare, “let’s try this.”

He checks his notes once more and then performs a series of complex gestures until the air in the room tightens like a shirt that has suddenly shrunk several sizes.

Magic twines around Loki’s fingers, eerie and glowing merely for the sake of being visible because it is difficult to sew with a thread you can’t see.

Thor growls and bites at the thin threads of sorcery that weave around him. He has never gotten the hang of Loki’s magic but for once he doesn’t get to have a say.

The words are crystal clear in Loki’s mind, no need to say them out loud. That only serves to impress bystanders. It’s enough to have them in your head - magic will know where to find them.

There is a low hum in the air that culminates in a rather disappointing _pfloff_ and Loki frowns.

Thor is still a ball of caramel coloured fur. He cocks his head to the side and gives Loki a quizzical look.

“Not that one either.” Loki murmurs and turns back to his books when Thor burps. It smells funny.

Loki grimaces, “Control yourself, brother.”

He does it again, only this time there is smoke coming out of his mouth. Now, that is vaguely alarming.

“What-”

Thor barks. Or at least that is what Loki suspects he meant to do. What comes out of his muzzle is a darting flame that Loki barely avoids by flinging himself to the side.

The chair and a good part of his notes are alight when Loki scrambles back to the desk and waves a hand over the flames. The fire dies down immediately but that’s about all the damage control he manages. The fire alarm goes off and Loki sighs.

“Stay away from the closet.” Loki pokes a warning finger at Thor who looks guilty, and rushes to the house phone to claim this as an unfortunate but non-threatening accident.

\---

The fire breathing is a problem. It’s not so much the fire alarm going off every time Thor opens his mouth (Loki takes care of it with a wave of his hand that vanishes all the fire detectors in the suite) but the holes it burns into Loki’s belongings.

And if Thor barks one more time in the library Coulson will just have to figure out how to work with a puppyfied thunderer because Loki will be out of reliable sources. If those books are gone he’ll have to _guess_ and Loki hates guessing because it implies not knowing what he’s doing.

At first he works a binding spell around Thor’s muzzle but it turns into a set of chewing bones.

Well, at least it keeps Thor occupied and his mouth mostly shut. It’s a start.

Then Loki tries to sneak off into the study while Thor is busy gnawing at an artificial bone. It does not go as planned. The only warning he gets before the lapels of his pants crumble to ash is a faint squeaky noise because that’s the sound Thor makes when he is barfing up fire.

’May take longer than expected. Complications.’

He texts Coulson. He doesn’t even know why but he supposes he just wants to vent. And Coulson has a therapeutic effect - whenever Loki is not unsuccessfully trying to wind him up, that is. Then he is downright impossible to stand.

  
_’Define complications.’_   


Loki looks down at Thor who is curled up in the remains of Loki’s pants. There is still smoke rising up from his nose whenever he exhales. Maybe he should return Thor as is and enjoy the show.

’Physical conundrum.’

  
_’Don’t make me repeat myself.’_   


Loki sighs. Coulson is hard to steer. The man has a mind like a needle. And he does not give up easily.

’He is breathing fire.’

Coulson does not reply for a long time. Then:

  
_’New orders: Focus on conflagration problem. Only, repeat, ONLY return if issue has been resolved. Humanoid if possible.’_   


‘So you’re saying you would be opposed to having a fire-breathing thunder god on your team?’

It takes even longer for Coulson to answer this one.

  
_’We appreciate the sentiment but no, thank you. Fire regulations are very strict.’_   


‘You can keep him in this glass tube of yours.’

  
_’NO.’_   


‘Fine. Your loss.’

\---

He gets the fire breathing under control by allowing Thor to chew on everything he gets his little teeth on. In the meantime Loki can search for a way to rectify the situation.

What he doesn’t account for is Thor’s habit of also _ingesting_ everything he chews on.

“You _ate_ all the fruit in that bowl?” He asks and Thor’s furry expression is as close to guilty-as-charged as possible for a dog.

“Thor.” Loki rubs his temples, “Those were made of wax.”

Thor merely burps up a small puff of apple-scented smoke. His brother is a walking candlestick. Brilliant.

“You,” he pokes Thor in his tiny, fur-covered chest and grins, “are going to have fun doing your business tonight.”

One needs to look on the bright side of things.

\---

It costs Loki a sleepless night but he manages to take care of the fire issue. Thankfully, it also gives him an idea as to how to return his brother to human form. He will have to practice on a dummy though because he is not taking any risks anymore.

He materialises a perfect copy of Thor in his current state which his brother regards with utmost suspicion. The copy - as opposed to the original - listens to Loki’s commands and holds absolutely still as Thor inspects it.

Thor sits down next to it and presents Loki with a borderline accusatory look.

“What?” Loki shrugs and magicks a nondescript outfit from his wardrobe onto himself. Something inconspicuous for five in the morning. “It’s either that or possibly turning you into a loaf of bread. Which would you prefer?”

Thor’s bark sounds angry but he lets it go in favour of hauling Loki out the door by his leash.

\---

“Hey,” a young man jogs up to him at the park, a familiar fuzzball trotting after him, “is this one yours?”

Loki glowers at Thor and picks up the leash, “Yes.”

“Quite a handful, isn’t he?” The stranger laughs. Loki doesn’t.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

The man seems to be in some sort of workout routine since his sweaty appearance suggests physical training. There is also a large brown dog involved somehow.

“Samson and I were playing fetch and I reckon he must have wanted to join us.” The stranger elaborates as he gives his dog a few hearty pats. ‘Samson’ seems oddly wary of Thor for a dog that is about three times Thor’s size.

Loki smirks, “Yes. He does that. Always playing in somebody else’s sandbox.”

Thor growls in response but Loki merely pokes him with his foot. It’s like shoving at a stone. Damned Odin and this bloody hammer.

“Ah, I had a tennis ball somewhere.” The stranger starts searching the area and Loki fails to see how this is any of his concern. “Bright yellow? I could have sworn your dog had it just a moment ago.”

“He ate it.”

The man bursts into laughter, “Good one. No, seriously. Have you seen it lying around here somewhere? It’s Samson’s favourite ball.”

Loki rolls his eyes. Why do people always believe he is joking? He is mischievous, yes, not a comedian.

“Trust me, he ate it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That ball was like almost the size of his head. He couldn’t have. He would have choked.”

“Oh, if only.”

Thor makes an awful retching sound and barfs up a small piece of yellow rubber. He looks at it as if he has never seen it before.

Loki shrugs, “I told you.”

“But-,” the man stares first at the remains of the ball and then at Thor, “that’s impossible.”

Mortals and their limited little minds. Loki could stay and educate the man on the _real_ meaning of ‘impossible’ but it is too early in the day for murder so he strolls on, Thor in tow.

“If you say so.”

“But-”

Loki half-turns and makes a silencing gesture that is so much more than a mere motion, “Shush. You’ll wake the neighbours.”

The man gapes in shock as not a single sound escapes his lips - though not for lack of trying.

Thor is giving Loki a disapproving look from street level as they walk on but Loki ignores it. Instead he inhales the early morning air and smiles wickedly.

“Today is going to be a good day.”

\---

Today is _not_ a good day. Thor shreds his entire wardrobe again - this time on purpose, Loki is sure.

Thor has never been especially creative in the revenge department.

And he keeps biting at Loki’s legs, barking at him until the concierge shows up and asks him - very politely but resolutely - to control his dog. He chews up all of Loki’s shoes. Repeatedly. He eats Loki’s notes and rips out the water pipes in the kitchen. How he even got back there is beyond Loki but Thor has always been headstrong that way. He will not be deterred by something so meagre as walls or padding.

By dinner time Loki is an enraged mess, his nerves hanging in frays. He can deal with the damage just fine but at this rate he’ll spend more time fixing things around the suite than getting Thor back to normal.

And it is beginning to get exhausting.

“Go away.” Loki lazily swats Thor across the muzzle. He is resting his head on top of his notes since this seems to be the only way to protect them from his rampant brother.

Thor keeps bumping his head against Loki’s leg which is not as cute as it looks.

“Quit your nagging. I know what this is about.” Loki hisses and aims a kick at Thor’s head. It misses. “It’s useless to yammer about the man from the park. I am not going to yield.”

Thor growls and it is starting to sound more like actual _dog_ than pup. Loki wonders if he should be worried. His brother may appear to be a fur ball but his powers are still somewhere in there. And who knows, Mjölnir may respond to barking too.

“There.” Loki waves his hand and a couple of glittering blue lights float into existence in front of Thor’s nose, “Go chase those.”

It does not have the desired effect. Thor’s ears twitch as the shimmering lights dance closer but other than that he is intent on staring Loki down from below knee-level.

“Alright, _fine_.” Loki huffs and wiggles his fingers, glaring at Thor, “There. Undone. Are you happy now?”

Thor keeps on staring. It has taken on a faintly sad edge now.

“What do you want me to do? Give him a singing voice?”

Loki does not know how this works on a dog but Thor is now positively shaking his head in a resigned manner. He is sure if Thor were capable of it at the moment he would heave a sigh too.

Loki throws his hands up in defeat and squints, “How can you even tell? How _in all the nine realms_ are you able to tell I was lying when you’re _a dog_? You can’t even tell when you’re human.”

He figures this will be a secret that Thor will take to his grave - an early one as soon as Coulson stops thwarting Loki’s attempts - because his brother merely cocks his head and looks clueless.

“You are insufferable.” Loki rolls his eyes and allows the spell to disintegrate like sugar in hot liquid. It never feels good to dismantle a spell. There is too much of himself in his magic for it to not hurt. The knife cuts both ways and if Thor understood that they would be a lot further along in resolving their dispute.

The almost imperceptible tremors in the fabric of this realm’s reality as it is restored to its former state die away and Thor looks impossibly pleased.

Loki doesn’t tell him that the spell would have worn off eventually. In a few years or so. He really doesn’t understand why this is such a problem. The world would be a much better place if everyone shut up every now and then.

Meanwhile, Thor’s attitude spins 180° now that this universe-altering crisis is avoided. He jumps to his feet and his tongue resumes its slightly askew position somewhere not entirely inside his mouth. The way it makes for both a stupid and an adorable impression is beginning to border on offensive.

“Go and occupy space somewhere else, goody two paws.” Loki sends the blue lights spinning around Thor’s head and this time they are not ignored.

Thor barks happily and waddles off to play, bumping into and destroying various items of furniture on his way.

Loki watches him for a while and sighs, “I wish I could hate you as much as I want to.”

\---

It is time for another go.

Loki fixes the copy of Thor with a firm stare, “Sit.”

The copy does. How refreshing.

Thor himself is mysteriously absent which is a blessing Loki will not question. This way Loki can practice spells in peace. He has a good feeling about this one.

He lets the magic in him roam free, engulfing them once more. It’s whispering to Loki and he whispers back, like lovers in the night. The texture of it is different now, a lot more profound which is promising.

The cobweb of greenish light is stronger, more refined and Loki smiles when he sends the thought of the last word out there for magic to consume and turn into whatever he desires.

It turns out to be a chameleon.

“Oh, for the love of-,” he means to say _’Odin’_ but he hasn’t uttered the old man’s name in a long time and he is not going to start now. Not even as a curse.

He sweeps the books off his desk in a bout of rage and buries his head in his arms.

He has tried everything. From simple regeneration spells to transformation charms, by Hel, he even tried to substitute Thor from another universe (as it turns out not a recommendable move since Thor appears to have turned into a puppy in _all_ accessible realities and sorting a small army of barking pups back into their respective universes is a pain in the arse).

It is hard to admit but Loki has reached the end of his wit. He has no clue where he is going wrong.

He pushes himself up and slouches into the living room, searching for Thor. Maybe a hearty chase around the suite for whatever Thor has gnawed or peed on now will spark new ideas.

At first, Thor is nowhere to be seen but when Loki stands still he can hear faint snoring. Like someone is squeezing a tiny balloon.

He follows the noise and finds Thor curled up in his helmet - wherever he pulled that from. It should have been hidden on a whole different plane of existence.

The horned helmet is lying on its side with two paws peeking out. The rest of Thor is snuggled up inside like the particularly furry filling of a biscuit.

Loki sits down and just stares at his brother sleeping in his helmet for a long time. He should be enraged. He should be yelling and trampling after Thor through the entire suite.

But what he does is take the helmet with his brother in it and carefully carries it into the library. He sets it down and pretends he’s only being gentle because his helmet is an important part of his attire.

The movement wakes Thor and causes him to yawn and blearily blink at Loki. He sneezes or snorts or whatever it is that dogs do when their nasal cavities are clogged up and wriggles around in the helmet until his head is poking out. He gives Loki a questioning, albeit sleepy, look.

“Sorry to wake you, brother.” Loki smiles and he has decided not to care anymore that it is dipping into the dangerous waters of fondness, “I think I know what to do now.”

It’s been in front of his nose all this time. But sometimes it’s hard to see beyond your own issues to realise that these issues are exactly the thing that keeps you from moving forward.

The thing being: he doesn’t _want_ Thor to turn back. For all the clothes-shredding, inappropriate peeing, and general annoyance it is still the best Loki has gotten along with Thor since their days in Asgard. A glimpse of a connection long lost and Loki knows it’s stupid because Thor is _a dog_. But he’s also clearly _Thor_ and no amount of fur can ever cover that.

Maybe it is time to admit that the only reason why all of Loki’s spells backfired was that deep down he wanted them to. And not even out of spite (well, not entirely anyway) but out of some delusional desire to have his brother stick around and be dependent on him for once.

Perhaps he even cared a little. Perhaps he cared too much.

“Time to set things right, brother.” Loki kneels in front of Thor who perks up and appears unexpectedly worried.

Loki has learned the hard way what it means to let go of something so he knows how to tell the universe that he is ready to see the balance restored. Magic does the rest and without much ado humanoid Thor pops into existence. It’s a dull ache and Loki is sure with time it’ll be easy enough to work around, just like the rest of the myriad of emotional stabs.

The helmet gets flung into a corner by the force of reality adjusting itself and Thor stares at Loki, mystified.

He flexes his hands as if trying out his motor functions while Loki slips back into the chair behind the desk. He makes a point in not looking at Thor - be it because his brother is very much naked or because he fears the impulse of turning him back into a pup will overpower him.

“You did it, Loki,” Thor whispers, almost reverently.

“Yes.” Loki occupies himself with picking up the books and papers and sorting them into stacks that make no sense at all, “Coulson sent over some clothes. They’re in the living room.”

He points at the door without looking, “Get dressed and leave.”

“But Loki-”

“No. Go away.”

It used to work better on puppy Thor; his brother continues to eye him in what Loki is pretty sure is a decidedly affectionate way.

“Do you see the chameleon?” Loki gestures at Thor’s former copy hanging upside down from the chandelier, “I swear I will turn you into one if you don’t leave this instant.”

With his luck it will probably turn Thor into a terribly useful, stealthy menace but as a threat it’s suitable enough.

Thor smiles and steps up to Loki which is all kinds of awkward considering his current lack of clothing and gently places a kiss on top of his head.

Loki jerks away a moment too late and shoves at Thor, grabbling for the last remains of his dignity, “Leave, for all that is despicable in this world. Just _leave_ already.”

Thor laughs and pads into the living room, hopefully to put some clothes on. Loki decides not to notice the sudden silence he leaves behind. It used to be more comforting.

\---

“There’s a car waiting for you downstairs, if Coulson is to be believed.” Loki says and twiddles with his phone.

Thor, now properly dressed, looks hesitant.

“Loki,” Thor takes a deep breath and Loki can already tell where this is going, “why don’t you come b-”

“Tell Coulson I will demand something valuable of yet undisclosed nature in return for this _extensive_ favour.” Loki announces, effectively cutting off his brother’s pleas. Thanks to Coulson he has half a foot in this horrid Avengers business and that is already more than he is comfortable with.

“Loki, please, I’m sure we can-”

“Go now or I will turn you back and this time I will not stop you from going head-first through the outer wall.”

“I tried to-”

“Yes. Multiple times. Now go.” Loki makes a dismissive gesture and smiles at its double purpose.

Coulson will call about it, no doubt, but until then Loki will content himself with the knowledge that Thor will go forth and make everyone he talks to uncomfortable for the rest of the day.

\---

Two hours after Thor’s departure he does indeed have Coulson on the phone.

_”His tongue is blue. Explain.”_

Loki’s grin is sharp enough to cut glass when he replies, “You said nothing pink. Have you ever even **seen** his tongue? It is disgustingly pink.”


End file.
